


Forms of Love

by RedactedReader



Series: Zukka Week 2021 [5]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Zukka Week 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 20:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30145242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedactedReader/pseuds/RedactedReader
Summary: “-refer to that part of love constituting a passionate, intense desire for something. It is often referred to as a sexual desire, hence the modern notion of ‘erotic’. However, in Plato’s writings eros is held-”Sokka tuned the lecture out. His focus wasn’t on the teacher, nor the class full of students enamored with her lecture. No, his focus was on one particular figure.Zukka College AU
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zukka Week 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211480
Comments: 1
Kudos: 50





	Forms of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Zukka Week College AU  
> I know I'm a day late.

Courses road by easily. Sokka had always prided himself on his academic achievements. He’d graduated top of his class, scored a record breaking result on placement tests and had been granted a full scholarship to a rather prestige college all while balancing debate club, soccer and a full time job down at the docks. He had never struggled with a course… until he’d taken up this one. 

It was meant as an easy credit, something to help him calm him down between his Political Science and Calculus classes. His course load was full of advanced and demanding courses, Philosophy shouldn’t be that difficult of a class. But it was. It was the class that was causing Sokka the most stress.

“-refer to that part of love constituting a passionate, intense desire for something. It is often referred to as a sexual desire, hence the modern notion of ‘erotic’. However, in Plato’s writings eros is held-”

Sokka tuned the lecture out. His focus wasn’t on the teacher, nor the class full of students enamored with her lecture. No, his focus was on one particular figure. Sokka had ignored the other guy for the first two weeks of classes, in truth he had ignored most of his classmates. For him, the course was an easy credit. For too many others in the room, it was like philosophy was their livelihood. Damn philosophy majors. This guy was different though. He had as much little for the other dramatic and ridiculous situations this class provided as Sokka did. Plus he was hot.

He sat two rows up, and one table over so Sokka didn’t always get the best view of his face. But when he did… Wow. His jaw was sculpted from some white clay, and his cheekbones equally sharp. The hazel of his eyes was like an almost golden glaze that he’d never seen before. He didn’t smile often, but when the corner of his lips twitched up in a smirk, Sokka wanted to run his tongue over it. Even the deep red burn that plagued his face created an air of mystery to him. He always dressed sharply; dark jeans and a button up of various styles and shades. He sported a pair of thick black rimmed glasses that kept sliding down his nose. Even his name, Zuko, brought Sokka a desire to speak it into the world. He did his best to remain unnoticed, and it worked pretty well. Sokka noticed him though. And once he noticed him, he couldn’t stop noticing him.

“Would anyone care to elaborate on those points. How about… Sokka?”

He looked up, staring at the elderly women in the front of the class. She was raising a gray brow at him expectantly. All eyes were on him. All except a golden set. Sokka rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Which part exactly?”

She sighed, knowing she was right in his lack of focus. “Plato’s theory of eros. The particular images of beauty we find interchangeable.”

Sokka had no idea what she was talking about. His gaze darted around. He really didn’t like to be put on the spot when he didn’t know the answer. He was so dropping the class, the credit wasn’t worth it. “Um… Plato is saying that…” he glanced down at the half scribbled notes from earlier, “to love someone… is to love all of them…???”

The professor cocked her head to the side. “That is a good basis. Can you elaborate on this further?”

He really couldn’t. She noticed this and nodded, relieving him of her focus. Her gaze shifted a few tables over, finding Zuko who was bent over, clearly drawing in his notes. “Zuko. Would you care to elaborate of Plato’s variant of love according to ones eros.”

Zuko looked up, blinking a few times. “Um… that it’s gotta be more than just physical appreciation. Just a physical feeling of love for a person is not a proper form of love. That love should be a reflection of that person’s ideal beauty…?”

The professor seemed satisfied with this and began moving on. Sokka was half paying attention, his gaze once more going towards Zuko. He was back to drawing in that notebook. He would do that often. He’d be paying absolutely no attention and when called upon would recite some deep philosophical take like he was mimicking it from somewhere, and go right back to his sketching. It was fascinating. 

Suki was ditching him for lunch that day in favor of some gymnastics workout. He considered leaving campus, heading into town to eat with his dad but didn’t think he’d have enough time to get there and back before his next course. So he was in the cafeteria, paying for a bowl of rice and chicken that he wasn’t a hundred percent sure was real chicken. Glancing around for a place to eat, he frowned at all the full tables. This was something Sokka wasn’t used to. He had been hugely popular in high school, people pushing each other from the tables to allow him a spot. He wasn’t that here. No, here he was the scholarship kid from a fishing family, surrounded by the children of politicians and wealthy businessmen. He should have attended that party college. It would have been more his style.

There was one table open. It was in the back corner and only had one person sitting at it. Zuko. Sokka made his way over, taking in the guy while he wasn’t paying attention. He was wearing the usual outfit, this time a soft baby blue button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of faded gray jeans. His shaggy black hair was tied back in a mess bun, held up by a red ribbon. His glasses were sliding down his face ever so slowly. He had a half eaten danish next to him. He wasn’t eating, clearly more focused on what he was drawing.

Sokka let out a whistle at the sketch. It was gorgeous, a field of white flowers with a women standing in it. Her back was turned, and a sheet of black hair was caught in a stagnant wind. The cherry red dress she sported stood out strong against the white lilies. Zuko closed the book when he noticed he was being watched. His glare behind those ridicilous glasses was almost charming. Sokka sat his tray of food on the table, smiling. 

“I think this chicken’s tofu.”

Zuko blinked. “What?”

Sokka returned a smile in turn. He pocked at the sesame chicken, watching the way it bounced back. “The chicken. The way it bounces back like that. I don’t think chicken does that.”

“It was frozen.”

“Frozen.”

“Ya. Places that need a large quantity of meat tend to get it frozen. Its more cost effective and longer storage time. That chicken might have been precooked and just heated up.”

Sokka was the one to blink now. “I give this place so much money in tuition and they give me frozen chicken.”

“Aren’t you the scholarship kid?” Zuko’s brow rose.

“Ya. That’s me. The fisherman’s kid. If you’re gonna make a joke, get it on with please.” He was used to the snide comments thrown his way whenever some of the more prickly rich kids found out about that. 

“I don’t have a joke.” Zuko looked confused. “I can’t really judge you. I’m here on one too.”

Sokka was blinking again, his confusion clear. “Aren’t you from a really wealthy family. Zuko Agni, that’s you. You’re dad’s like a huge politician. A pretty fucked backwards one, no offense, but like he’s rolling in lobbying doe.”

Zuko looked sad for a second. “I don’t live with my dad. I stay with my Uncle. And no offense taken. He’s a real fucker.”

It took a second, before Sokka smiled. That was the one hurtle he was glad they had cleared. He was utterly fascinated with this guy, and learning that his father was a corrupt politician who openly supported discriminatory and supremacists groups had made Sokka reconsider his attraction. “So, what made you take the philosophy class?”

“My Uncle. He’s always going on with some proverb or whatever. I never understand what he’s saying. I was hoping the class would help me understand. But so far it’s just been utter bullshit and I understand even less. Like whatever was today’s discussion? Why do they have to complicate something as basic as love?”

“I don’t know...” Sokka smirked, leveling him a sultry glance “love has always seemed a little complicated to start with.”

The blush grew across Zuko’s cheeks almost instantly. He cleared his throat, “so, why did you take the class.”

Shrugging, “figured it was an easy A.” 

They both shared a nod, realizing that the class was anything short of an easy one. For a class that was based on one’s inner understandings and views, there seemed to only be one right answer in the professors eyes. And it was never the answer they gave. 

Zuko’s finger rapped across the top of his sketchbook. He was clearly growing a little uncomfortable with the attention so focused on him. Sokka nodded, moving slightly to stand and leave if need be. “You want me to go? So you can get back to it?”

Zuko took a second to respond. He looked down at the sketchbook, and then back at Sokka. One thing that was clear about him, was that he did his best to avoid being drawn in by other people. It was why he was always seated alone, and darted from classes the moment they were over. Only a few weeks into the year and he’d carved out his own little corner to hide in. Opening the sketchbook back open to where he’d been working, he carved out a little more of his corner with a welcoming nod. “I would feel like shit if I sent you out to deal with the masses.”

Sokka seated himself, smirking slightly. He stabbed at the chicken, holding out a piece, “you wanna piece?”


End file.
